


Calendar Girl: Feburary

by Hmtomcat (TJfan72)



Series: Calendar Girl [4]
Category: JAG
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-02-14
Updated: 2001-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-02 05:12:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5235479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TJfan72/pseuds/Hmtomcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harm turns the tables on Mac by planning a special Valentine's Day on the first anniversary of their disastrous ferry ride in Sydney.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calendar Girl: Feburary

**Author's Note:**

> originally published 14 February 2001

I'm sitting at my desk, fiddling with a pen, trying to concentrate on the file in front of me, but I'm not doing a very good job of it.  Every few minutes I find myself looking towards Mac's office, even though she’s not in there right now. She’s stuck in court this afternoon prosecuting a desertion case against Mattoni.  In fact, if it hadn't been for the fact that she's in court today, I would have suggested that we take today off together.  Oh, well, I guess I'll just have to settle for having tonight with her.  
  
After the amazing New Year's we spent together, I had promised to plan something to return the favor.  Neither of us mentioned it again after that.  To be honest, I don't think Mac has mentioned it because she doesn't want to put any pressure on me to perform, so to speak.  I mean, I'm under enough pressure as it is trying to plan something just as spectacular as the evening she gave me.  How the heck am I supposed to compete against an evening that I will remember for the rest of my life?  Finally, I decided on Valentine's Day to spring my surprise, keeping with her original idea of a very special holiday celebration.  Plus, using a holiday as a theme made it a little easier to come up with ideas –  
  
\- like the surprise waiting for Mac on her desk when she gets out of court.  This particular idea I actually borrowed from something Mac had done on New Year's, re-tailoring it slightly for Valentine's Day.  After checking some of her things yesterday morning so that I would get the sizes right, I snuck out during lunch to make a few purchases.  Actually, it was kind of embarrassing, walking into a lingerie store in uniform, trying to explain to the saleswoman what I wanted while trying to ignore the stares and, in some cases, outright flirting by some of the female customers.  You would think they would have figured out that a man buying lingerie would either have to be in need of a lot of help of the psychiatric kind or very seriously involved with someone.  Next time I get a bright idea like that, I'll bribe Harriet into going to the store for me.  
  
I look up again just in time to see Mac striding across the bullpen, a smile on her face, her steps confident and sure.  She must have had a very good afternoon in court.  She glances briefly in my direction and her smile seems to grow just a little brighter and just a little bit flirtatious and I could swear from here that I saw her wink.  I return the smile and continue watching as she disappears into her office.  I have a feeling that I'll be seeing her in a few minutes.  I lean back in my chair to wait for her, sitting straight up again just seconds later when I see Harriet walking into her office, a look of dismay crossing my face.  Oh, boy.  Great, Rabb, that's what you get for leaving your little surprise in a red foil gift bag right smack in the middle of Mac's desk.  There was always the possibility that someone could walk into her office.  At least it's just Harriet, who already knows about us, considering that she was in on Mac’s little shopping expedition before New Year’s Eve.  I can just imagine what would happen if Bud or, Heaven forbid, the Admiral were in her office when she gets a peek inside that bag.  
  
It's not that it would bother me for everyone to know about us.  Although we haven't broadcasted the news of our relationship for everyone to hear, we haven't gone out of our way to hide it either.  We kind of agreed that, although we see our relationship as a private matter between the two of us, if people find out about it, no big deal.  We're not going to stress out about it either way.  I’m pretty sure the Admiral already suspects, if only because we keep asking for the same days off, not to mention his phone call the day that he had sent us to Norfolk.  When he had called me that morning to let me know that we no longer had the day off, he had commented, ‘I’m sure you’ll take care of informing Colonel Mackenzie.”  It wasn’t so much his words – which could have been taken to mean that I would handle calling Mac instead of him – but his tone of voice when he said it, as if he knew that she was there with me.  It had taken everything I had not to die while on the phone with the Admiral since, at that particular moment, Mac had been quite busy under the sheets giving me a blow job.  
  
I hear a knock on my door and look up, disappointed that it isn’t Mac.  Masking my chagrin, I motion Bud into my office and ask, “What can I do for you, Bud?”  
  
“I’m looking for the Hallison file,” he says, taking a seat in front of my desk.  “You took it home with you last night to make some notes.”  
  
“Right,” I reply, reaching into my briefcase.  “It’s been sitting in my briefcase all....”  My voice trails off as I go through the files in my briefcase and I realize that the Hallison file isn’t here.  I’d bet a month’s pay that another one of my files ended up in Mac’s briefcase by mistake.  Not the first time that’s happened.  Work kind of fell by the wayside last night – Mac had decided about 10:30 last night that I was working much too hard and decided to work on ‘relaxing me’ -  and we just started throwing folders in briefcases this morning in our rush to get out the door.  I pick up my phone and dial Mac’s extension.  
  
“Well, if it isn’t my....well, it’s not Christmas, so I can’t call you my secret Santa,” Mac greets me, knowing from her phone’s display that it was me.  I can imagine her sitting just on the other side of the wall, a smile on her face as she fingers the red silk of her gift.  “I guess that makes you my secret Valentine.”  
  
“Not such a secret,” I reply, “since you have company in there right now.”  I didn’t notice Harriet leave her office, so I’m assuming she’s still in there.  
  
“True” she replies and I can imagine the smile on her face turning into a mischievous grin.  “By the way, Harriet's quite, um, *impressed* with your, um, thoughtfulness.”  
  
I laugh, noticing Bud looking at me strangely, and reply, “Well, you can tell her that as far as my thoughtfulness, she hasn’t seen anything yet.  Actually, you can leave off that last part.  She doesn’t need to *see* what else I have planned.”  Bud must think that I’ve lost my mind listening to my end of this conversation.  Then again, I can’t believe that I’m talking like this in the office of all places, but now that we’re finally together, Mac and I can’t seem to get enough of each other.  There's a part of me that's surprised that we haven't managed to find ourselves alone in one of our offices late at night with no one else around or that we haven’t gotten the lecture from the Admiral about needing a chaperone to go to the copy room.  
  
“Oh, so there’s more to this?” she asks, intrigued.  I close my eyes for a second and imagine her tongue traveling along her red lips in anticipation.  Come on, Rabb, you’re in the office, remember?  
  
“Of course, or did you forget that I owe you a favor?” I reply, my mind flashing for a brief second on New Year’s Eve and being wrapped up in her as the clock struck twelve.  
  
She doesn’t say anything at first, maybe because Harriet’s in the room with her.  After a moment, she simply says softly, “I remember.”  I can hear a little catch in her voice and it takes everything I have in me not to ask the Admiral for the rest of the day off for both of us.  
  
“I thought you would,” I say, trying to push those kinds of thoughts from my mind.  “Anyway, getting back to the reason I called, have you seen the Hallison file?  I took it home last night, but it’s not in my briefcase anymore.  I thought you might have seen it.”  
  
I can hear papers shuffling and after a moment, she tells me, “I’ve got it.  I must have shoved it in my briefcase on accident this morning.”  In the background, I think I hear Harriet giggling at that.  
  
“Well, Bud needs the file, so can you bring it over here please?” I request.  I could just as easily have sent Bud over there, but I’m not sure Mac would appreciate Bud going in there while she and Harriet are oohing and aahing over her gift.  Actually, I don't think *I'd* want to be in the room while they're looking it over.  Much too embarrassing, even in front of an old friend like Harriet.  
  
“Not a problem,” she says.   “I need to come over and talk to you anyway.”  
  
“Thanks,” I tell her, hanging up the phone.  A few seconds later, Mac and Harriet both exit her office and head in this direction.  Mac has an anticipatory gleam in her eyes and Harriet looks like the cat that swallowed the canary.  As they enter the office, Mac hands the Hallison file to Bud, who is looking even more confused now that he knows it was Mac that I was talking to on the phone.  
  
Before Bud can say or ask anything, Harriet jumps in, “Bud, can I talk to you in your office?”  She glances at me and winks.  Gotta love Harriet.  
  
Bud looks from me to Mac and opens his mouth as if to speak, then shakes his head.  “Sure, Harriet,” he replies, before looking at me and Mac again.  “Sir, Ma’am.”  As they leave, Harriet pulls my door closed behind her.  For that, maybe I ought to get flowers for Harriet to thank her.  
  
Mac glances at the blinds on my windows, which I never opened this morning, then sits across my lap and gives me a long, hard kiss, her tongue slipping easily into my mouth, running her fingers through my hair.  I put my hand on her hip, rubbing gently through her skirt, but I force myself not to pull her closer.  We are in the office and this will be hard enough to explain if the Admiral finds out that we are in my office together with the door closed, given what he suspects about our relationship.  I don’t want to even think about trying to explain being caught behind closed doors with Mac in a compromising position – at least during duty hours.  
  
With a sigh, she breaks off our kiss and rubs her thumb against one corner of my mouth, I assume to wipe away a trace of lipstick.  “I take it that’s your way of telling me that you like your present?” I ask, grinning at her.  
  
She climbs off my lap and goes back around the desk to sit down in the chair vacated by Bud.  I don’t really want to let her go, but I understand why I have to, at least here.  “Very nice,” she replies huskily, a gleam in her eyes.  “But why did you give it to me now?  Why not wait until after work?”  She leans forward, resting her elbows in the edge of my desk, resting her chin on her folded hands.  
  
“Anticipation,” I reply, rolling my pen between my fingers.  It gives me something to concentrate on besides how close she is and how much I want her.  I glance at my watch.  Just one more hour and we can get out of here.  Then we can have as much of each other as we can take.  
  
“Are you forgetting Norfolk?” she asks, teasing.  “The anticipation just about drove us crazy.”  
  
“Kind of hard to forget,” I point out.  I lean forward across my desk and add softly, “If you have a problem with the anticipation, then I think we’ll have time to do *something* about that before we go to dinner this evening.”  
  
“I just might take you up on that,” she says, licking her lips.  I swallow hard and remind myself yet again that we’re in the office.  “So, do I get to ask where we’re going or is that a surprise, too?”  
  
“Out,” I reply simply, nearly laughing at the frustrated expression on her face.  But, hey, turnabout’s fair play.  I knew nothing about her plans for New Year’s, although I’ll be the last person anyone will hear complaining about that.  “Have I told you how much I *enjoyed* our New Year’s celebration?”  
  
Mac swallows hard, no doubt remembering that evening in vivid detail.  “You know, I could try to *extract* the information from you,” she suggests, her voice so soft and seductive.  I glance at my watch.  Fifty-three minutes.  I wonder if the Admiral would notice if we just snuck out of here.  Yeah, right, he’d notice all right and probably charge us with being UA in the process.  Well, Admiral, my girlfriend was sitting in my office looking sexy as hell in Marine greens and I just couldn’t take it anymore.  Yeah, he’d probably laugh his ass off as he’s ordering our Admiral’s Mast.  
  
“Tempting,” I reply, it requiring every ounce of discipline within me not to just say to hell with it and drag her out of here.  Great, now I’m exhibiting caveman tendencies.  “But unless *you’d* like to explain to the Admiral....”  I let the threat hang in the air.  
  
She pouts a little and concedes, “Alright.”  She gets up and stands at the door, pausing with her hand on the knob as she turns her head and gives me a sultry look that is probably illegal in all fifty states and probably most countries.  She blows me a kiss and adds, “But all bets are off in fifty-one minutes and thirteen seconds.”     
  
With a barely noticeable saunter, she opens the door and heads back for her office, leaving me behind my desk all hot and bothered.  I drop my pen back on my desk with a heavy sigh.  Christ, am I in trouble now.  
  


* * *

Thank God for seatbelts. At least they offer a *little* protection against a certain Marine Lieutenant Colonel who can’t get her mind out of the gutter. Who am I kidding? As if my mind hasn’t been there all day as well. Why couldn’t Valentine’s Day have fallen on a weekend this year? Then I wouldn’t have had to worry about forcing myself to work while trying not to think about the sexy vision in Marine greens just on the other side of the wall. Not that I was imagining her *in* her uniform. Let’s see – her blouse hanging open, her skirt pushed up around her waist, her legs wrapped around me as I pound into her – that sounds about right. Besides, it's not like I can keep my mind off her when it isn't Valentine's Day. Ever since we came together a few months ago, it's like the sparks that have always existed between us ignited a fire that's raging out of control with no hope of containment.

But the seatbelt doesn’t hold her hands in place and she slips one of hers under my uniform jacket, her fingernails scraping against my zipper. Her touch is light, but it still has the effect of driving me out of my mind. It’s a good thing we’re stopped at a red light, or I might do something crazy – like cause an accident or pull over and put myself out of my misery. She’s been like this the entire drive back to my place – keeping her hands to herself while I’m driving, then devising new ways to torture me every time we stop at a light. If I’d known she was going to be like this, I’d have spent the entire day New Year’s Eve at her place, driving her out of her mind while she was trying to prepare for our evening together. I'll have to remember that if we ever do something like this again.

As the light changes green and we start moving again, she pulls her hand away and I sigh with regret. Four more blocks, then we’ll be at my place. I should have listened closer when she told me all bets would be off once we left JAG. I shift slightly in my seat in a futile attempt to ease my discomfort. She notices and I swear the most evil grin crosses her lovely features. Well, two can play this game. I’m just kind of busy driving right now and trying not to get us into an accident.

"Enjoying yourself?" I ask, forcing my eyes to remain on the road and biting my lower lip to keep from grinning.

"I warned you," she says. Out of the corner of my eye, I can see her tongue lazily circling her lips and I try to think of something, anything to keep my mind off my desires. Hey, I managed to do it for four years, didn't I? Yeah, but that was before I knew just what a tigress she can be and how hot we are together.

"I just hope you're prepared to accept the consequences," I say, this time not holding back the grin as I turn my head to glance at her.

I stop at the next light and her hand returns to my crotch and she strokes me firmly. "We'll see if you can run with the big dogs," she teases and I groan.

I don't know if I can survive three more blocks of this.

* * *

Fortunately – or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it – we ran into my upstairs neighbor as we got into the elevator, so Mac was forced to keep her hands to herself. I admit that I was having visions of her ravishing me in the elevator. Thank God for long uniform jackets or this might be a bit embarrassing for me. We get off the elevator at my floor without incident except for the fact that Mac was standing in front of me with her hands behind her back and she wasn’t keeping them to herself. If I could have done it without being obvious, I would have slapped her hands away. I even manage to get the apartment door unlocked and step inside before she makes her move and tries to grab me. But I was expecting it, so I manage to move out of her way just at the last moment, heading towards the bedroom, Mac following behind me laughing at my attempts to evade her.

As I grab a few things from the closet, I hear her behind me, setting her gift bag on the bed and unbuttoning her uniform jacket. I turn towards her and hold out a garment bag. "You're already one step ahead of me," I say with a grin, although she's not ahead of me in the way she thinks she is. "Here's your dress for this evening. Why don't you get changed into it while I change uniforms?"

She pouts a little as she takes the offered bag, unzipping it. "What happened to your 'before dinner' promise?" she asks. She takes a look at the dress inside and glances up at me, amused. "You are aware that it is the middle of February, right?"

I chuckle a little as I lean over and plant a quick kiss on her nose, not daring to do anything more. "To answer your first question, we've still got time and I very much intend on keeping that promise," I reply. And just wait until she sees how I intend to keep it. “As for the second, well, you will be wearing a coat over that – at least while we're outside, which we won't be that much."

"In other words, it never occurred to you that I might get cold wearing what little dress there is here," she mutters even as she takes the dress out of the bag and lays it out on the bed, running the dark red silk between her fingers. "Typical male."

Ouch, although I have to admit that she is right. Practicalities like keeping warm didn't even cross my mind when I picked out the dress for her. I head towards the bathroom with my mess dress uniform, my head turned towards her so that I can watch while she unbuttons her blouse. "I don't think keeping you warm will be a problem," I counter, grinning widely. Her eyes sparkle brightly as she considers the implication of my statement. 'Oh, and wear the panties," I add, referring to part of her gift from earlier.

"Are you sure you don't want to watch me change?" she teases saucily as I hang my uniform on a hook just outside the shower and begin unbuttoning my jacket out of view of her.

"Tempting," I reply, actually considering the idea for a few seconds. "But our transportation will be here soon.   Did you want your curling iron plugged in?" Not that she doesn't already look great, but with the dress, she might want to go with a different hairstyle than her normal work one.

"Yes, thanks," she replies. "So when did you get so thoughtful?" She laughs a little as she says that and I stick my tongue out at her, even though she can't see me do it.

"Aren't I always thoughtful?" I ask in my most innocent tone.

"Do you really want me to answer that?" she retorts. She laughs gaily when I don't reply and teases, "I didn't think so."

"You know, I'm going to make you eat those words," I tease in return. "You'll see tonight just how thoughtful I can be."

"I look forward to it," she replies, her voice louder as she steps down the stairs from the bedroom, leaning against the glass block wall as I let out a low whistle. The dress looks even better on her than I thought it would. Made of fiery red silk, the dress drapes over her body, revealing just enough of her lush curves to be considered daring. The neckline plunges just enough to drive any man crazy by hinting at the swell of bare breasts hidden beneath the soft fabric. The thin spaghetti straps go over her shoulders, where I know they cross over her exposed back and attach at the waist. I motion to her to turn around and my eyes travel hungrily over her back to the red silk draped at her waist and over the firm curve of her rear. The skirt, molding to her like a second skin, falls to just above her knees. It's a dress made to be peeled off a woman.

"Very nice," I reply as she turns back around to face me. I take my cummerbund off the hanger and wrap it around my waist.

"Let me help you with that," she says as she moves behind me, fastening the tiny buttons at my back. "It's a very beautiful dress. Thank you." Finished, she wraps her arms around me, running her hands up the front of my shirt as she presses herself against my back. Even through my shirt and her dress, I feel her hardened nipples against my back. I didn't think she'd given up on *that* yet.

"Don't you need to fix your hair?" I suggest, forcing the reluctance out of my voice. I'd love nothing more than to carry her back up the stairs into the bedroom and claim everything she's offering me, but I want to give her a night she'll never forget. Even if I wasn't returning the favor from New Year's Eve, I'd still want to show her just how much she means and has always meant to me. I owe her this and more for the last four years we've both had to endure and for my misstep in Sydney which nearly sounded the death knell on any hope of a future for us.

"Spoil sport," she says with a mock pout as she releases me and steps in front of me to stand in front of the mirror. She begins curling her hair with me as an interested audience, while I pull on my mess jacket, straightening the gold wings on the lapel. As I watch her fuss with her hair, a brilliant idea occurs to me.

"I'll be right back," I say, heading back into the bedroom for one of the gifts I'd intended to give to her later. For some reason, now seems to be the perfect moment and I return to the bathroom with the small box. She fluffs the curls with her fingers, leaving her hair slightly mused. The effect is sexy as hell, especially on top of the dress. I stay just out of the way as she sprays a little hairspray on it, then hand her the box in my hand as she turns to me.

"I was going to wait until later to give this to you," I explain as she snaps open the jeweler’s box and gasps softly, fingering the delicate necklace nestled inside, "but watching you just now, I thought that your neck looked a little bare. Happy Valentine's Day."

She lifts the necklace out of the box, the thin silver chain dangling between her fingers as she studies the charm, a tiny rose in silver, a blood red ruby at the center of the intricately carved petals. "It's beautiful, Harm," she says softly. "Help me put it on?"

I take the necklace from her hand, my fingers fumbling a little with the clasp. These things definitely weren't made for male fingers. We both laugh just a little at my clumsy attempts to unfasten the necklace. Finally, I get it open and drape the necklace around her neck, just holding it in place for a moment while she fingers the rose, finally fastening it as I press a kiss to the nape of her neck. "I saw that at a jewelry store when I was buying your *other* surprise at lunch today and I thought it was just perfect," I explain. There's more to go with it, but I am going to save that for later.

"It is," she agrees, turning and draping her arms around my neck. "I love you."

"I love you, too," I reply, the words coming so easily from my lips now, even if I still stumble over other words which explain how I feel every now and then. Sometimes, all this still scares me and thrills me at the same time. Being in love with her is like being on the fastest, tallest, scariest roller coaster – or pulling extreme Gs in a tomcat. I'd never thought I'd ever find anything on earth to compare to the adrenaline rush I get while in the air, until I first spied a beautiful woman in Marine greens just outside a rose garden.

We stand there, just holding each other, enjoying the peace of our love for each other until the ringing of the phone breaks the moment. Pulling away from her after brushing my lips across her forehead, I go back into the bedroom and pick up the cordless phone on the night stand. "Rabb," I say into the phone as Mac comes back into the room, sitting down on the edge of the bed, pulling on a pair of heeled sandals with thin red straps. It occurs to me that it's a good thing it's not icy out, but then that would give me an excuse to sweep her up into my arms outside. I'm surprised that she hasn't accused me again of not thinking with regards to her shoes. "Yes, we're almost ready. We'll be down in a few minutes."

I turn to Mac and tell her, "Our ride's here. Are you about ready?"

"Yes," she replies, finishing fastening her shoes and standing. She picks up her gift bag from the bed and follows me into the main room. I pull her long winter coat off its peg by the door and hold it as she slips her arms into the sleeves, switching the bag from one hand to the other as she does so. Before buttoning up her coat, she pulls my black Navy issue coat – a necessity since I'm in uniform - off its peg and holds it for me as I put it on. It's sweet, something I'd never thought of a woman doing for a man. I grab my cover, my keys, and a bag with a few more surprises for her and lead her out of the apartment.

We're silent on the elevator ride downstairs, simply holding hands. I remember a week or two after we became involved, we had gone for our usual morning run at Rock Creek Park. During our cool down period after our run, we'd held hands as we walked and it had amazed me how something so simple could feel so wonderful. When I'd idly commented on it, she had replied simply, her voice full of awe, "I know." It ended up becoming one of our *things*, holding hands whenever we get the opportunity. We just have to try and remember not to do it while we're both in uniform, something we're not always successful at, which gives our hand holding just a hint of the forbidden at times, but that's a whole other discussion.

Mac lets out a soft gasp as we step out of the building and she gets her first look at our transportation for the evening – a white stretch limousine. The driver stands at the side, holding the back door open for us. He looks a little relieved to see us, which I can understand given the neighborhood. It wasn't easy to convince the rental company that yes, I really am a Navy Commander, despite my home address, and that I'm definitely not some kind of pimp or drug dealer. Mac climbs into the car, holding her coat around her legs so she doesn't trip, calling out softly, "Oh, Harm," as she sees the little surprise that I arranged to be waiting for her in the car.

As I climb into the car, she's holding a large white teddy bear with red velvet paws, her coat lying across the seat facing us. The bear is holding a large velvet heart with a rose embroidered on it along with the words 'Be Mine.' She fingers the soft fur as she looks at me, her eyes glistening in the soft light over our heads. We barely notice when the driver closes the door behind us, climbing into his seat a moment later.

"There's still a little bit of traffic out," he tells us, and I manage to force myself to pay attention, "so I can't tell you how long it will take to reach our destination. So just sit back and relax and just let me know if you need anything." He presses a button on the dashboard to raise the glass partition that separates us from him.

"He's cute," Mac declares, pulling out the envelope between the heart and the bear's chest. "This is very sweet of you."

"I saw it in a store and it made me think of you," I tell her. I've never really been one to buy stuffed animals for a girl but the soft smile on her face and the joy in her voice is all the confirmation I need that I made a good choice. I have a feeling that she hasn't had many moments like this in her life.

"Just one thing," she says, sighing softly.

"What's that?" I ask, not really too concerned. She definitely doesn't sound upset with this gift.

"I'm already yours," she tells me, fingering the white words on the red heart.

"Yeah, but you know I've never really been good with words," I try to explain. "At least, not where you and I are concerned." I nod towards the unopened envelope, dropping that particular subject. "Aren't you going to open that?"

I watch her, holding my breath as she slowly pulls open the envelope and pulls out the card inside. For some reason, my eyes were immediately drawn to this card when I was shopping for one to give her. Maybe it's because the words on the card say everything that I often find myself unable to express in words. I'd like to think that I do show her how I feel by my actions, but after Australia, I'm all too aware of how important the words are, too, even if I still sometimes stumble over them.

"I've never been so inspired by love, so lost in the feeling that I could say there forever...." she reads from the front of the card, glancing up at me as tears form in her eyes. She opens the card, a paper inside fluttering to her lap, and continues reading, "It's as if you and I were lovers in another time and place and all of our lives have been but preparation for this reunion. It's as if no two have ever loved the way we do, as if your lips were made for mine and my hands were meant to touch only you. With all my breath and body, mind and soul – I'm so in love with you." I brush a falling tear from her cheek as she presses a kiss to my palm. "Harm, that's the most beautiful...."

"You know that I'm not very good at telling you how I feel," I explain, my fingers brushing lazily over her cheek and her full lips, her lips parting slightly beneath my gentle touch. "And with today being Valentine's Day, I wanted to make more of an effort to make sure that you know just how much you mean to me, Sarah Mackenzie."

"Harm, I know how you feel," she counters, taking my free hand in hers and linking our fingers. "You may not always be able to say the words, but you show me every single day, whether it's by holding my hand or leaving lunch for me on my desk when we can't eat together or the gentle way you hold me in your arms after we make love. There was a time when I wanted nothing more than for you to tell me how you feel, but over the last few months, I've come to realize that there's more to being in love than just saying the words. You've taught me that. I just wish that I'd learned that lesson sooner."

There are a lot of things that I wish we had both figured out sooner. I start to speak, but she places her fingers over my lips to silence me. "I know," she continues. "There were a lot of things we both could have done differently, but that's all behind us now. Anyway, this is a beautiful sentiment and I echo it. I love you with everything I have in me."

I pull her closer to me, pressing kisses along her throat, lingering at a sensitive spot just behind her right ear. Mac moans softly as her fingers tighten around mine. "You forgot what was in the card," I whisper against her skin. She shivers slightly as she picks up the paper that had fallen out of the card when she opened it. I have a feeling she'll definitely get a kick out of this one.

"Ah," she gasps softly as my mouth moves down her throat again while my fingers gently caress the nape of her neck. "Anything I want?"

"That's what it says, isn't it?" I counter, pulling back slightly as my fingers continue their caress. "'The bearer is entitled to have one wish fulfilled on February 14, 2001'. Any wish, any desire – just ask and it's yours."

"Hmmm," she murmurs, licking her lips. She ponders the idea for a long moment then asks in a husky voice, "How much privacy do we have back here?"

I harden in anticipation at her question, although I'm not sure it's entirely fair that this be the wish I fulfill. Honestly, making love in the back of a limo is a little fantasy of mine as well and I'd already planned.... "I asked before I rented the limo," I reveal. "We have complete and absolute privacy for....whatever we want to do. I suppose I should tell you that I'd already planned to make love to you here. Didn't I promise that we would do something about the anticipation *before* dinner?"

She grins as she sets the card and the bear on the seat opposite us and climbs onto my lap, straddling my thighs, her dress hiking up as she settles over me, revealing the tops of her thigh high stockings, held in place by red garters. Everything’s red tonight – from the slip of a dress that she’s wearing to the blood pounding in my veins to my heart which she’s always held in her hands. I slide my hands under her legs and unfasten the back straps of her garters with a loud snap as she gasps, her eyes glittering with arousal. "Then I'd say we both get our wish fulfilled," she whispers right before bringing her mouth down over mine.

There's nothing tender or gentle about our kiss. It's tempestuous and fiery, full of the pent-up desires of the last few hours, our tongues dueling frantically for control. My hands slide up her back and under the thin straps of her gown, pushing them off her shoulders, the red silk falling to her waist. I break off our kiss, dipping my head down to take one bronze nipple into my mouth as Mac arches her back, my arms going around her back to support her while her fingers burrow in my hair, holding me against her as I feast.

Leaving one arm around her, I slide one hand down her back and under her dress. She did wear the thong as I'd requested and I slide a finger underneath the strap, tugging on it so that the red lace rubs against her center, her moan echoing in the confines of the limo. Her fingers leave my hair, sliding down my front, swiftly unfastening the small white buttons of my dress shirt, then sliding around my back to unbutton the cummerbund before returning forward to finish off my shirt, letting it hang open while still tucked into my pants. Her hands move over firm muscle in small circles, the scraping of her fingernails over my skin causing me to groan.

I turn us, pushing Mac down to lay across the seat. She looks so beautiful and so wanton, her eyes sparkling with passion, her breasts heaving with every breath she draws. My eyes move over her hungrily as my hands slide slowly up her legs, pushing her dress up, revealing the bright red lace of her thong. "I think red's definitely your color," I whisper. I hook my fingers under the waistband and slowly slide it down her legs, tossing it aside as she watches me.

She sits up and unbuckles my belt, leaving it to hang open while she unfastens my pants, pushing them down to my knees, grinning as she gets a look at the black silk boxers with red hearts I'm wearing. "I definitely like these," she says, fingering the waistband. "But I don't remember you taking these into the bathroom with your uniform to change."

"Actually, I wore them under my uniform at work today," I reveal as her eyes grow wide. Definitely non-regulation, but the look on her face when I tell her is worth it. Although it's probably a good thing that she didn't know earlier that I was wearing them.

"Good thing I didn't know that earlier," she whispers seductively, echoing my thoughts, as she pushes the boxers off my hips, lying back onto the plush seat as she pulls me down with her. "I might have had to lock your office door and had my way with you."

"Don't you have your way with me enough already?" I counter, teasing as I sink into her welcoming depths. She lifts her legs and wraps them high around my waist, allowing me to enter just a little bit deeper.

"I'll never get enough of you," she promises. Her fingers tighten around my biceps as I begin moving insider her and I feel her burning touch even through layers of clothes. I close my eyes, my other senses finely tuned to the soft hiss of her breath as she arches her hips towards mine, the musical clinking as my miniature medals knock against each other with my movements, the musky scent of her perfume, the soft feel of her silk dress beneath my hands as I grasp her hips, guiding her movements.

"I'll never get enough of you either," I vow. Sarah Mackenzie is like an addiction, the best kind, one that I'd never willingly give up.

"Harm, more," she mumbles and I oblige eagerly, thrusting harder and faster against her as she counters my movements with equal fervor, her hands slipping under my open shirt, her nails digging into my back. Before long, our harsh cries are mingling in the small space as we climax hard together and I collapse against her.

I prop myself up on an elbow over her, careful not to let my weight crush her. My eyes open and I gaze down at her, her eyes closed, her olive skin flushed, her breath coming in soft pants through her slightly parted lips. I trace the outline of her full, red lips with a finger, her eyes fluttering open to meet mine as I smile down at her.

The peaceful moment is broken when the intercom buzzes. "Commander Rabb," our driver announces, "we're about three blocks away from our destination."

I sigh with regret as I pull out of Mac then pull my pants back up and straighten my uniform. She sits up and giggles a little as she straightens her dress, pulling the straps back up her arms so that she’s quite properly covered. "Do you think he realizes what we were doing back here?" she asks, giggling even more at the expression of mock horror I shoot her.

In spite of myself, I laugh as well as I reply, "Probably just like the Admiral realized what we were doing that day he called us to send us to Norfolk." She laughs at that, pillowing her head on her arm resting on the back of the seat, a satisfied smile on her face. I spy a scrap of red on the floor and lean over, picking up her panties, dangling them in front of her.

She snatches them from my hand and teases, "Are you sure you want me to put them back on?"

"You're bad," I counter, grinning at the image of her covered by her dress while fully aware of what she's not wearing underneath. Good thing that this going to be a private night for us.

"But you like me when I'm bad," she argues with a grin as she slides the panties on, giving me a brief glimpse of the wet curls between her legs as she pulls them into place. She smoothes down her skirt, giving me a knowing look as she notices the direction of my gaze. "Patience, Commander. Since the evening is far from over, I'm sure you'll be seeing more of me."

"You're right," I agree, leaning towards her, my lips just millimeters from hers. "I like it when you're bad."

* * *

"Harm, if I trip in these shoes...." Mac threatens as I lead her down the hall, a red silk scarf which matches her dress tied over her eyes, my arm securely around her.

"I've got you," I point out. "Besides, you weren't that concerned about me when you blindfolded me on New Year's Eve."

"But you weren't wearing three inch heels," she counters. "And you were sitting on the couch, not walking down the hall in....what is this, a hotel?"

"Yes," I tell her. "The Monarch Hotel in northeast Washington."

She lets out a low whistle. "Harm, they have suites here that cost a night what we net in a month," she says, stunned.

"Actually, about half of what one of us nets," I say. I'd nearly had a heart attack looking at some of the prices here, but we don't need an entire three-bedroom suite. As long as the room has a table for dining and a bed, it's perfect for what I have planned. "Anyway, I didn't book us the Presidential Suite or any suite. Just a regular room with a few special touches for tonight. We're here."

I stop in front of the door to our room, sliding the key card into the slot, pushing the door open. I lead her into the room, pushing the door closed behind us before untying the silk scarf and pulling it away. She turns around slowly, taking in the room. In front of us is a table covered with a red tablecloth, set for an intimate dinner complete with unlit candles and a vase of snow white roses surrounding a single crimson rose. To the side of the table sits a cart with our food. I'd arranged earlier today for our driver to call the hotel just before we arrived so that our dinner would be waiting in our room for us when we got here so that we wouldn’t be disturbed once we arrived here. Across the room, a fire blazes in the fireplace, also arranged with the staff beforehand.

Mac sniffs the air appreciatively and moves to the cart after setting her bear, coat and purse on the dresser, lifting the lid off one of the covered dishes. "Should have known you'd go for the food first," I tease, earning a brief dirty look from her.

"Watch it, Commander," she retorts. Then her expression softens and she adds, "Harm, you didn't have to do all this. I would have been happy with a quiet evening at home with you."

I walk up behind her and wrap my arms around her, pulling her back against my chest, presenting her with a single rose I'd plucked from the vase on the table. "I wanted to," I say simply as she takes the rose, inhaling deeply the fragrant scent. "You did so much for me on New Year’s Eve. Besides, I didn't want to risk being interrupted by anyone. Our luck, the Admiral would probably call and want to ship us off to the middle of the Atlantic Ocean tonight."

"As long as we hot bunk," she teases and I groan at the image that creates in my mind. She just brought to mind another fantasy of mine – just her, me, and a stateroom on an aircraft carrier in the middle of the ocean. We just haven’t had an opportunity to pursue that one yet.

"I was right," I tease in return as I lead her back to the table, pulling out a chair for her to sit in. "You are bad." I move to the cart, pulling off and replacing lids until I find our appetizer. I set the dish on the table, then pull an opened bottle of sparkling cider out of the ice bucket on the cart and pour us each a glass. I set the glasses on the table, use the lighter lying on the table to light the candles, and pull the other chair around next to her and sit down.

I pick up my glass, tilting it in my hand, watching the amber liquid swirl around in it, contemplating what I want to say. "Hey, you okay?" Mac asks after a moment. I look up from my drink to find her studying me intently.

"I'm fine," I reply, shrugging. "Just thinking....about last year."

It takes her a moment, but she finally figures out what I’m talking about. I guess she doesn’t think about that disaster as much as I do, or she doesn’t let on that she does. "Harm, I thought we had finally put that behind us," she says, putting her hand on my arm. "Australia was.... another lifetime ago."

"It's not Australia specifically," I reply, setting my glass down and taking one of her hands in mine. "I mean, I don't think I'll ever forget how close I came to losing you or how it felt to watch you wear another man's ring for all those months, but it's not that."

"Harm, if this is really bothering you, we don't have to talk about it," she insists, but I shake my head.

"That's just it," I say. "When it comes to talking to you, I seem to just freeze sometimes and sometimes it....well, it terrifies me that I'll clam up at the wrong moment and I'll lose you again, the way I did in Australia. So I'm wondering if maybe I'm overcompensating a little...." I gesture towards the room.

"I don't think it's too much," she says, leaning forward and pressing her hand against my cheek. "I think it's incredibly sweet. I don't know how to explain it. You’re not talking to me in Australia bothered me and we both know the consequences of that. But once you were able to admit what you feel for me, it was easier to deal with your not talking because instead of waiting to hear the words from your mouth, I started hearing them in your actions. Every day, in a hundred different ways, you show me how much you love me from the tender 'Good morning' kiss you give me every morning when I wake up to the way you hold me close as I fall asleep in your arms. It's great to hear the words – every time I hear you say 'I love you' my heart beats just a little bit faster and I get this tingling feeling in the pit of my stomach – but as I told you in the limo, you taught me that there's more to being in love than just saying those three words."

"I know and you're probably wondering why I'm bringing this all up again since we did mention it in the limo," I say, managing a smile. "I was just sitting here, glass of sparkling cider in hand, and I couldn't seem to put into words everything that I wanted to say to you. In fact, you just put it into words a lot better than I could ever hope to. Maybe I should ask Bud for some pointers. After all, it didn't take him four years to get the girl."

She laughs at that as she replies, "We both could probably takes some lessons from Bud and Harriet. But I'd like to think that we're learning and I know that it’s hard sometimes. Sometimes I'll look at you and think 'he's arrogant and egotistical and stubborn and non-communicative and sometimes just a general pain in the ass and why do I put up with him?'"

"Gee, thanks," I mutter, only half serious since I know deep down that everything she just said is true and I know that she doesn't mean it as an insult.

"But you're also kind and compassionate and passionate in your beliefs," she continues, ignoring my little interjection. "And I love you with all my heart and I know that you love me in return."

"I do," I say fervently. I laugh a little. "You know, it's easier to say this after you, just like on New Year's. But I'm trying to do better. What's that line? 'You make me want to be a better man'. I'm everything that you said I was before, stubborn and arrogant and all that other stuff. But you don't put up with any of that, which is part of what made me fall in love with you. You intrigue me and you challenge me. You didn't immediately fall for the 'dress whites and gold wings' routine, although I still think you were fudging the truth a little when you declared them overrated. I've never met a woman like you before. I can honestly say that you're the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"Wow, you really are working on yourself," she declares with a grin. "And I have to concur with that last sentiment. You're the first man – not counting my uncle – who's accepted me, completely and unconditionally, warts and all. You're definitely the best thing that's ever happened to me."

"I think I have the perfect toast," I say, picking up my glass again. She does the same and we lift up our glasses. "It may have taken us four years, but we finally figured out that we're the best thing that's happened to each other. To the best thing that's ever happened."

"To the best thing," she whispers as we link our arms and sip slowly from our glasses, our eyes locked. As we lower our glasses, Mac licks her lower lip and I lean over to kiss her. She tastes delicious, sweet like honey mixed with the cider we just drank. I start to deepen the kiss, but then I hear her stomach grumble and I pull back with a grin.

"Should have known that your stomach wouldn't take long to assert itself," I tease, setting my glass aside and pulling the appetizer plate towards us. I pick up a piece of asparagus and hold it out to her, carefully holding a napkin under it to catch the drizzling sauce.

Mac closes her lips around the tip of the stalk and closes her eyes, sensually sucking the sauce off the vegetable. Breathe, Rabb. It’s just dinner. Right, it’s never just anything with Mac. As she bites off the end and slowly chews, she gives me a knowing glance.

“I know what you’re thinking,” she says, almost in a sing-song voice, licking a tiny bit of sauce from the corner of her mouth.

“Oh, really,” I reply, attempting to be as nonchalant as possible. I rub my fingers with the napkin in my hand, cleaning up some imaginary sauce on my hands. “And what would that be exactly?”

She climbs into my lap, her dress riding up dangerously high on her thighs as she straddles me. Her breath is hot against me, sending shivers down my spine and the blood pounding through my body, as she leans forward and whispers in my ear, “You’re imagining that it’s you in my mouth as I suck....”

I groan loudly. Yeah, I was thinking that, but it doesn’t help distract me from how much I want her for her to mention it. “I thought you were hungry,” I say.

She lifts her eyebrows as she scoots forward on my lap, her skirt slipping up even higher as she presses against me. “I *am* hungry,” she retorts, drawing her tongue along my jaw. I slip my hands around her firm ass, pressing her even closer to me, both of us groaning at the contact as she slowly grinds against my hardening erection.

“For food,” I mumble, giving her one last out. I’m not about to complain about feasting on Sarah Mackenzie rather than lobster, but I’m not about to catch hell from her later when she complains that she hasn’t eaten dinner.

"I'm hungry for both," she counters, pulling back a little as she picks up an asparagus stalk and holds it out to me, using her hand instead of a napkin to catch the sauce. My eyes are focused on her lips, forming a little 'o' as she feeds me the stalk. After I finish, I take her hand and lick the sauce that dripped off onto her palm as she exhales sharply. Satisfied that I've cleaned up every last drop of sauce, I take her other hand and draw each of her fingers into my mouth in turn. "Good?" she asks, lifting her eyebrow.

"Very," I whisper, tangling my hand in her hair and pulling her head to mine, tasting the lemon butter sauce off her lips. Her fingers tighten around my shoulder boards as she deepens the kiss, her tongue tangling with mine.

We break off our kiss, resting our foreheads together as we both smile softly. "Maybe we should change if we're going to feed each other," Mac suggests.

If Sarah Mackenzie straddling my lap wearing a red silk dress is driving me crazy, her wearing the little gift I left on her desk is likely to drive me straight out of my mind. I have a strong feeling that dinner will not last very long. "Sounds like a good idea," I agree, perhaps a bit eagerly.

She slides off my lap, leaning over to give me too quick kiss before heading off for the bathroom, grabbing her gift bag from the dresser first. As soon as the door closes behind her, I grab the lighter off the table and move around the room, lighting the candles scattered around the room before flipping off the lights, casting the room in shadows and flickering candlelight. The air is heavy with the fragrance of vanilla and strawberry from the candles as Mac steps out of the bathroom, my breath catching in my throat at the lovely vision before me, leaning casually against the door frame. I'd imagined when I'd purchased the baby doll gown what she would look like, but my imagination apparently wasn't vivid enough.

Nothing is left to the imagination by the sheer red silk which barely falls to her hips, not the firm mounds of her breasts with hardened bronze nipples, nor the smooth plane of her stomach, nor the lush curve of her hips complete with tattoo. "Like what you see?" she asks in a teasing tone, striding towards me in her heels, the candle light flickering on her skin.

"Definitely," I reply, my voice croaking. I clear my throat and continue, "Much better than I imagined."

"Only I'm a little bit underdressed," she pouts, "or you're a little bit overdressed. I was really looking forward to seeing those boxers again."

I grin as I reply, "I was busy setting the atmosphere."

"Very nice," she says, glancing around the darkened room. "But there's one thing missing."

"And what would that be?" I tease, even as I know how she is going to answer.

"You," she replies, her fingers tracing my miniature gold wings before unfastening my uniform jacket. "If you get to look, then so do I." Her hands move slowly as she unfastens my uniform, as if she opening a present and wants to draw out the anticipation. Each movement becomes a caress as she peels away layers of clothes until I’m standing in front of her clad only in my silk boxers, my arousal very noticeable.

She grins in appreciation as she presses her hand against me, causing me to nearly jump out of my skin. “Not very hungry for food, are you?” she muses.

“No,” I reply shortly, pulling her hard against me as my mouth descends hungrily over hers, our hands moving over each other, rubbing and squeezing heated flesh. Barely aware of what I’m doing, cognizant of little beyond the flames inside me that her touch is fanning, I move her across the room until we’re in front of the fire place. Pulling her down with me, I fall to my knees, my mouth moving hungrily over her throat, one hand tangling in her hair, tilting her head to allow me greater access to her tender flesh.

Her hands are busy, moving over my bare back and under the waistband of my boxers, slipping around front to touch.... “Sarah, slow down,” I plead, my words coming out between harsh pants. She stills her movements and looks up at me, her eyelids heavy, her expression confused. I take advantage by lowering us the rest of the way to the floor, stretching out on my side next to her. My hand moves in slow circles over her stomach and I prop myself up on an elbow, gazing down at her.

“Harm?” she asks, her voice hesitant. I smile at her as my hand moves upward to finger the silver rose at her throat.

“I just want to slow down a bit,” I explain, dipping my head towards hers. I move my lips over her skin with the lightest of touches, making sure to cover every square inch before just barely touching her lips with mine.

When we make love, it’s often like a firestorm burning out of control, heated and fast and tempestuous. It’s not often that we take the time to slow down, to sample and to taste. I nibble on her lips while my fingers move over her face, memorizing every angle and curve. Her eyes close while she reaches up and drapes her arms loosely over my shoulder, the quiet sounds coming from her throat almost a purr of satisfaction.

I slide down, moving over her throat as she arches her head back. There’s a particular spot at the base of her throat that I know is especially sensitive and I linger there for a drawn-out moment, my tongue barely flicking against her soft skin, drawing a low moan from her. I know where she wants me to go next from the way her back arches, but I detour, moving slowly down one arm, pausing at the inside of her elbow and again at her wrist. Even when we’ve come together in a blaze of passion, I’ve tried to remember those points where my caress brings her the most pleasure and tonight I intend to explore every one.

I can still taste the lemon butter sauce from our abandoned meal, I realize as I draw her fingers into my mouth one by one, my tongue circling around each one. I trace circles on the palm of her hand with my tongue before moving to her other side, this time starting at her fingers and moving up, lingering at the same sensitive spots.

My fingers move languidly over the bare skin of her chest above her gown and I can feel her breath quickening in anticipation. While I trace random patterns on her skin, I stare down at her silk covered breasts. They’ve always fascinated me, almost from the beginning. I remember that first glimpse of her in a sundress, giving me a hint of what usually lay hidden beneath her uniform and then there was the first time I saw her in a bikini. It took a lot of willpower to keep reminding myself that we were on assignment, making her off limits. And of course, her unhesitatingly asked question ‘Is that a request?’ often echoes through my mind, especially the first night we made love. I think she was a little afraid that I had frozen up, given how long I just stared at her perfect globes.

I run my fingers over the top edge of her gown, rubbing the silk against her. Her eyes fly open and lock with mine as I circle around in ever tightening circles until I finally take her nipples between my thumbs and forefingers, rolling them into even harder peaks. She draws her lower lip into her mouth, biting down as my touch becomes just barely more insistent. Touching isn’t enough, it never is enough, and while one hand continues its massage, I lower my head, taking her into my mouth. Her moans grow just a little bit louder as my tongue flicks against her silk covered nipple, I want more, need to taste her, and I lift up just long enough to pull the silk aside, baring her to my touch and gaze.

As I take her into my mouth again, she works her fingers through my hair and down the back of my neck while she lifts up one leg and wraps it around me, rubbing her wet center against my stomach. I slide a hand down her side and under her thigh, holding her against me, encouraging her to still her movements. I don’t want this over too soon. I want this to last.

She acknowledges my unspoken command and settles against me as my mouth moves to her other breast, repeating my torturous attentions. My hands slide down and under her short gown, caressing the smooth plain of her stomach, toying with the waistband of her panties. She arches her hips against me again, but as my mouth moves down her body, I avoid her groin, moving down her right leg with my hands and lips. I pause at the small imperfection on the front of her thigh, closing my eyes for a moment as the memories wash over me.

Mac stretches a little and rubs her fingers against my arm, letting me know it is okay.   That day still haunts me. I’m grateful that I was able to get her out of the woods, but that thankfulness is tinged with the knowledge that it could have been so much worse. Shaking my head slightly as if to clear it, I continue my downward trek, and then move back up the other leg. Once I reach her hip, I whisper, “Roll over.” She offers a soft murmur of protest, but complies.

I don’t often take the time to explore the back of her body, although it’s where I find one of her most fascinating features – the tattoo on her right buttock that for so long was considered ‘classified’. I’d gotten a kick out of the blood red rose with the thorny stem the first time I’d seen it. It seems so descriptive of our relationship the past four years, despite the fact that she’d gotten the body art years before we’d even met. If I’d never given the idea any credence before, seeing that tattoo would have made me a firm believer in fate. When I’d mentioned that, she responded with a flip comment about me suddenly waxing poetic, but I could see in her eyes how much my reaction had touched her. Discovering this little secret of hers had definitely been worth the wait.

I lazily trail a hand up and down her spine as she draws in a shaky breath. Outside of her genitals, her spine is probably the most sensitive part of her body, my tender touch causing her to literally shiver beneath me. Starting at the small of her back, I leave a trail of soft kisses up her spine, pushing her hair out of the way as I reach the top, pressing kissing all over the back of her neck as she sighs contentedly.

I roll onto my side and she turns over to face me, one of her hands finding mine, our fingers entwining. I lift our joined hands to my lips and kiss her fingers, relishing the quiet moment enveloping us. There’s so much noise in our lives all the time, from the hustle of JAG Ops during the day to the blazing passion of our bed at night that we don’t often take the time to enjoy the peace that love can bring.

With one last kiss to the top of her hand, I release it and move my hand down her body, pulling down her panties and tossing them away. She returns the favor and pushes my boxers down as far as she can, sitting up to complete the job. I sit up as well, pulling the red silk baby doll over her head.   She brings her arms down around my neck as our lips meet in a kiss, as tender and soft as any we have exchanged and I settle between her spread legs, slowly entering her welcoming depths as we sink back to the floor.

Our bodies move together as one, our movements in perfect concert with each other. There’s something....I don’t think there are words to describe such a perfect melding of bodies and souls. Our lovemaking is often hot and frenzied, making this something of a revelation of how beautiful and perfect something so unhurried and tender can be. It’s seems fitting to experience this on this day for lovers.

After a long moment which both seems too brief and to last an eternity, her body shudders beneath mine, her climactic cry sounding deep in her throat. I blindly find her hand and link our fingers again, squeezing tightly as I empty everything I have into her, offering my own soft cry.

Shifting slightly so that my weight isn’t crushing her, I rest my head on the floor next to hers, staring deep into her dark eyes. She presses a hand against my cheek, her soft smile and tender expression echoing the peace and contentment I’m feeling inside.

* * *

We lay together on our sides in front of the fireplace, wrapped up in a spare blanket found in the closet, our appetites – both for each other and the food we later went back to - sated for now. Propped up on an elbow, looking down at her, I lazily trail a hand up and down her thigh. She turns her head and smiles up at me.

"I....had a wonderful time tonight," she says. Her voice sounds as full of awe as I feel about this perfect evening and I can’t help feeling a little proud of myself for pulling this off. She places her hand over mine on her thigh and curls her fingers around mine. "I don't know how to say.... you've done so much this evening. I've never felt so loved."

I don't know what to say in response and that must show in my expression, despite my best efforts to hide it, because she laughs a little and assures me, "I wasn't fishing for a flowery declaration there. You've done more than I had ever imagined tonight to let me know how you feel."

"Letting me off the hook, Colonel," I tease. "That's not like you."

"Just for this evening," she retorts. "I think your conduct tonight has earned you a brief reprieve."

Now that's the Mac I know and love, the take-no-prisoners, give-no-quarter Marine. I laugh, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Well, the night's not over yet," I declare. "I've still got something else for you. I gave you the necklace I bought earlier, but I have a few other things for you."

I get up and walk over to the dresser, fingering the handles of the gift bag I haven't given her yet. "I wanted to get you something that symbolized us and our relationship," I try to explain, my back still to her. "But I couldn't find just one thing...."

I sense her presence as she walks up behind me, catch the subtle scent of her perfume mingling with the fragrance of the burning candles. She presses herself against my back, her palms flat against my chest, as she stretches up to kiss the back of my neck. "You've already given me so much already," she says softly. "You really...."

"I know, but I wanted to give you more," I say, turning around in her arms, holding the bag out to her. "Happy Valentine's Day."

She takes the bag, staring at it, tears forming in her eyes. "Um, I've got something for you, too," she says. "It's just a little thing....why don't I get it and we'll open our presents together." Handing me back the bag, she reaches for her coat lying across the top of the dresser, digging into a pocket and pulling out a small gift-wrapped box. Instead of the red hearts of Valentine's Day, the paper surrounding the box is blue with little bi-planes. It looks like paper you'd wrap a child's gift in, but it touches me more than I can say, maybe because flying is what nearly tore us apart. "I wanted something with a flying theme and this was the best I could find. You'll understand why when you open this." She shrugs, sounding a bit embarrassed.

"I'm....touched by the thoughtfulness," I say, giving her my most brilliant smile as we walk to the bed. I pull down the covers and slide beneath them, sitting back against the headboard. She climbs in after me, settling between my legs, her back against my chest. I hand her back the bag and she hands me the box in her hands.

"So how do you want to do this?" she asks, pushing aside the tissue paper in the bag to glance at the gifts inside. "There are three gifts in here."

"My only requirement is that you open the largest one last," I reply a bit nervously. I'm not sure how she's going to react to it, to the reminder, and there's a part of me that wants to put it off as long as possible. But in a way, it’s the most important gift of all. "Other than that, it doesn't matter."

"I want you to open your gift before I open mine," she says. "That way I can watch you open it and then you can watch me open mine."

"Fair enough," I respond, holding the gift out in front of us, looking over her shoulder as I tear off the brightly colored paper to reveal a small velvet box. I pull up on the top to reveal a tie tack and cuff links in the design of a bi-plane.

"I wanted to get something with an aviation theme," she jumps in to explain before I can say anything, waving her hand at the gift. "I know you probably won't have much opportunity to wear them – they can't exactly be worn with your uniform – but when you were on the Patrick Henry, I would remember the first time you took me up in 'Sarah'. Before all that other stuff happened that day, there was such joy in your voice, such freedom in your bearing, and that memory is how I convinced myself while you were gone that you were happy and doing what you'd always dreamed of."

"Sarah, I love them," I say softly, tilting her head so that I can give her a kiss. As I pull away, I add, "It means a lot to me that you would think of something like this and I love you for it."

"And I love you," she agrees as she pulls one of her gifts out of the bag. I did go for a Valentine's theme with the wrapping, choosing a red foil paper similar to the bag that her lingerie was in. Eagerly she tears off the paper and lifts the lid on the jewelry box to reveal earrings that match the necklace I had given her earlier, the only thing she is wearing right now.

"I saw these at a jewelry store in the mall when I bought your lingerie," I explain, brushing a stray tear from her cheek. "Roses, of course, for the place where we first laid eyes on each other and the clerk told me the stones are rubies, which are appropriate since your birthday is in July." She pulls the earrings off the card and puts them on and I push her hair back behind her ears, kissing her adorned earlobe. She turns her head and her lips meet mine in a soft kiss, her hand reaching up to stroke my cheek.

Her head resting against my shoulder, she quickly tears the paper off the second, slightly larger box, pulling out a silver charm bracelet. "I love this," she exclaims, fingering the charms one by one. "A Marine Corps globe, the Navy anchors and shield, the scales of justice, a plane, a rose...."

I laugh at her enthusiastic response. "And there's room for more charms," I point out, taking the bracelet as she holds out her wrist to me, again fumbling with a jewelry clasp as I fasten it around her wrist. "For other important events in our lives, kind of a scrapbook of our relationship."

She pulls the third box out of the bag, shifting it in her hand. "It's kind of heavy," she says, curious. Unlike the other two gifts, this one she tears the paper off of slowly while I hold my breath. She cautiously lifts the lid off the box and I wonder if she realizes how nervous I am about this particular gift. She lifts the snow globe out of the box and just stares at the scene of the Sydney Harbor, complete with Opera House and Harbor Bridge, stunned. "I don't understand...."

"Look at the bottom," I instruct her, squeezing her shoulder gently. Slowly, she turns the globe over and studies the metal base and the engraved message for a long moment. "I'd give anything to go back and have that conversation all over again. Since I have no desire to actually return to Sydney....I thought this was an alternative."

She turns the globe upright and watches in a daze as the snow falls over the harbor scene. I can't read the expression on her face and it's beginning to worry me. "Sarah....?"

"Do you mean it?" she asks softly, her voice breaking.

"About eternity?" I ask. Without waiting for her reply, I go on, "I never answered you that night when you asked if that was how long we were going to wait. This is my answer, Sarah. Eternity is how long I want to spend with you. Now that I know what it feels like to love and to be loved by you, I don't ever want to live without that feeling again. I'd never willingly give you – or us – up. I love you, Sarah Mackenzie."

"And I love you, Harmon Rabb," she whispers, setting the globe on the bed before turning and wrapping her arms around my neck. It's taken a year, but I think that I've finally managed to help both of us make a little peace with what happened that summer night.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Continued in Flying Lessons


End file.
